Tortallan drabbles
by actions-we-remember
Summary: Drabble series, each chapter featuring the star couple in each of Tammy's Tortallan books Beka/Rosto are, of course, representing for Bloodhound . Ten drabbles per couple.
1. Beka and Rosto

**Before you flay me alive, let me say that I'm infinitely sorry about the whole never-posting-a-single-word-for-months-and-leaving-you-with-nothing. I've been in a funk (and a busy one at that) for ages. Plus, I was working on some original stuff, and...I'm sorry to say that fanfiction took a backseat. I don't know if this will open the doors to me posting like a madwoman...but I thought I'd show you I'm alive, and that I really am sorry for being such a failure.**

**Tammy owns the characters in every drabble, in every chapter.**

1. Haven

Beka leaned out of her window, scattering crumbs for her pigeons. Below in the courtyard, she saw Rosto, Aniki, and Kora talking animatedly. She returned Kora and Aniki's cheerful waves, rolling her eyes as Rosto blew her a kiss. Kora beckoned for her to join them, but Beka refused, smiling. The three Scanrans shrugged and returned to their conversation. Beka watched them for a time, enjoying the sight of their ease. It was comforting to know that there was always a place for her among the three friends, a safe haven among the dangers of the city.

2. Silence

Beka gazed at Rosto. Something in her was screaming that this was a bad idea, that rushers couldn't be trusted. But when Rosto leaned towards her, she didn't back away, didn't move to stop him. She didn't even hit him. She just let it happen. Slowly, Rosto pressed their lips together. At the contact, something clicked within Beka. This was different, better, than kissing Dale. She pressed against Rosto, trying to get as close as possible, her arms locking around his neck as his found her waist. Neither of them said anything. The kiss had said it all.

3. Coppers

Tunstall and Goodwin leaned against a building, watching their former Puppy, who was feeding and talking to pigeons outside her window. Usually they frowned upon spying on fellow Dogs, but Beka had been acting oddly lately, and they were determined to find out why. After a few minutes of pointless examining, a figure appeared beside Beka, and the Dogs glimpsed Rosto the Piper's pale hair as he bent and whispered something in Beka's ear. To their surprise, Beka smiled and kissed him in response. Tunstall whistled in astonishment. Goodwin looked up at him calmly.

"You owe me five coppers."

4. Breakfast

Breakfast at the Dove had always been entertaining. But this time, Rosto was being unusually quiet, eyes locked on Beka. Kora and Aniki kept sneaking looks at each other before glancing away quickly, smirking. After about twenty minutes of this, Rosto suddenly swore and stood up. Beka looked at him in surprise as he lifted her, planting his lips smartly over hers. Kora and Aniki roared with laughter as Ersken blinked in confusion. Rosto grinned down at Beka shamelessly as she quirked an eyebrow at him.

"They would have found out eventually," he said, pulling her in for another kiss.

5. Charm

Kora knocked on Beka's door once before letting herself inside. Beka looked up from her desk, where she was scribbling in a journal. Kora smiled at her. Casually, she brandished a package at Beka, who took it, looking perplexed. The mage grinned wickedly as her friend pulled out a necklace, blushing.

"I thought you could use a new one," Kora remarked, nudging Beka teasingly, who stuttered in embarrassment, hurriedly stowing the anti-pregnancy charm back into the box. Kora giggled. Beka sighed in defeat.

"Thanks, Kora," she muttered. Kora winked.

"Don't mention it."

6. Brawl

Rosto kicked the Rat he'd just defeated aside, running towards the other brawling pair. Beka defended herself with only her baton, aiming at her opponent's more tender areas. Rosto jumped on the cove, snarling and brandishing his dagger. With a flash of silver, the Rat was down, belly-cut, knocking Rosto to the ground as he fell. Beka plied the body off of Rosto, dropping to her knees beside him. She threw her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his chest.

"Stupid looby," Beka scolded weakly, "I was fine on my own." Rosto grinned.

"I love you, too."

7. Safe

Beka stretched under the sheets, watching Rosto as he slept. A small part of her berated herself for giving in to him, even now. She knew she shouldn't have, that by bedding the Rogue she put her entire career at risk. She knew she shouldn't have trusted a rusher after what happened to her ma. But looking at Rosto now, lying peacefully beside her, she knew that he would never be like those men. As if to confirm this, Rosto's lethal arms wrapped themselves around her, shielding her. Smiling, Beka tucked herself more securely into his hold. She was safe.

8. Scars

Rosto held Beka in his arms, tracing a scar on her shoulder, a memento from her time as a Puppy. Beka herself stared at a crescent-shaped mark on his chest from a fight during his first days as Rogue. Both of them knew every scar the other had, and knew every story behind them all. This scar was Beka's least favorite of all, because it was so close to his heart. Beka refused to think about how close the rusher who had caused the wound had come to killing her Piper. It was too horrible a possibility to imagine.

9. Special

Rosto looked down at the exotic doxie fluttering her eyelashes at him, wishing she'd leave him alone. She'd been dropping hints that she would be better company than Beka ever since the Dog had left for her watch, despite Rosto's obvious disinterest.

"A cove like you deserves someone special," the doxie purred, trailing a finger down Rosto's chest. Rosto scowled. This had gone on long enough. He firmly pushed her hand away, taking a step back.

"I've already got someone, thanks," he said, walking away, ignoring the doxie's indignant squeak and wishing fervently that Beka could be at his side.

10. Interruption

The bedroom door burst open with an ear-splitting _bang!_ Beka and Rosto jerked apart, Beka yanking the sheets over her chest, Rosto crashing to the ground with a loud oath. Both of them turned to glare at the doorway, where Aniki watched them, looking thoroughly unapologetic as Pounce ran past her, mewling irately.

"Your cat's been howling at us for hours," Aniki said over Pounce's irritated reprimanding. "You've had all morning for fun. Now take care of that curst animal."

**That wasn't so painful, was it? I hope not. I had to really work hard to make sure they didn't such spectacularly.**

**I've got the rest of the drabbles ready to go. I just have to post them between school (which starts tomorrow) and band (which, as drum major, I'm essentially running alongside my director). Which WILL happen, I promise.**

**So, so, so, so, so very sorry,  
Brighteyes**


	2. Alanna and George

**So. You guys are awesome for coming back to read/review anything I write. Siriusly, cyber cookies for all of you. Even if (or especially since) Beka/Rosto isn't your cup of tea. ;D**

1. Grin

The crowd in the Dancing Dove was noisy, as usual. Alanna sat back in her seat, watching her disguised friends make fools of themselves with amusement: Raoul and Gary had barmaids on their laps, singing an old folk tune; Jon sat next to them, humming tonelessly, smiling dazedly. Nearby, George was deep in conversation with one of his men. Without warning, his hazel eyes found Alanna's. She looked away hurriedly, as if she hadn't just been staring at him. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw George return to his conversation, an oddly satisfied grin on his face.

2. Jealousy

George watched Alanna as she wound through the Dancing Dove, making for the door. Beside her, Jon grinned as he bent towards her ear, whispering something. George grunted disapprovingly. There was something wrong about the two of them, a puzzle that didn't quite fit. They worked as friends, but as lovers, they were incompatible. The Rogue's eyes narrowed suspiciously when his lass laughed, lightly punching the prince in response to whatever he'd just said. George's heart gave a pang of jealousy. He scowled at his tankard, wishing mightily that it was _him_ walking away with her, not Jonathan.

3. Women

If anyone noticed the sudden disappearance of women from George's bed, they said nothing. The absence of the last woman to catch his fancy was something that couldn't be ignored: she'd left the house only after telling George, at the top of her voice, just how displeased she was before turning heel and flouncing away. After that, Alanna caught George staring at her more and more frequently, and often found herself daydreaming about what it would be like to occupy the newly-empty position in her friend's bed before she furiously stopped herself.

She would never be a Rogue's girl.

4. Dragon

In the days between the battle and Alanna's return to the desert, she and George spent hardly a moment apart. Often, Alanna would lapse into a thoughtful silence, and George knew he was thinking of the Shang Dragon. He let her remember, knowing the loss would be easier to deal with that way. Never once did it cross his mind that she wished he had taken the Dragon's place in death.

5. Tribesmen

The days spent in the desert with George and the Bloody Hawk tribe passed in companionable bliss. George enchanted the entire tribe with his charm, earning more than a few admirers and proving himself amongst the men. Alanna couldn't explain her happiness at seeing her betrothed slip so seamlessly into the life she had decided to lead. Her lips always curved upward whenever she saw George surrounded by the tribesmen, laughing, talking, helping around the tribe, his hazel eyes seeking out her violet ones, flashing her a private smile.

6. Welcome

Alanna stretched in her saddle for a first glimpse of Pirate's Swoop as she and George wound their way along the path. Tall walls surrounding an even taller tower dominated the scene, but as the sentries bowed her through the gates, she caught sight of smaller houses surrounding the tower, forming an organized, well-planned town. In the distance, the sea rumbled soothingly. Civilians lined the streets for a glimpse at the famed knight who was to be their baroness. A blush spread across Alanna's cheeks. George draped his arms comfortingly over her shoulders, whispering, "Welcome home, darlin'."

7. Reports

George sighed and pushed away yet another report, rubbing his tired eyes. Mounds and mounds of paperwork were before him, but his brain was far from his work in Pirate's Swoop. It was with Alanna, fighting on a battle field miles away. George sighed again and ran a hand through his hair. Not for the first time, he wished he could be at her side. He hated being apart from her, and if something happened—George closed his eyes. His Lioness had been through worse than this: she would come home. He had to believe that.

8. Spider

George stared at his wife, biting his lip to keep from laughing. Alanna—the brave and renowned King's Champion—was pointing at the wall, her eyes carefully averted from it. The baron stared at the wall. It stared back. Suddenly George couldn't hold it in anymore. He threw back his head and laughed. He kept laughing, even when Alanna punched him in the arm, even when he stepped forward and killed the spider that had been the object of Alanna's terror.

9. Rebels

Alanna watched the oncoming Scanrans grimly. The renegades roared as they charged, drawing swords, axes, and daggers. Alanna could feel the eyes of her squad drilling holes in her back, waiting for her command. Her mind snapped to Pirate's Swoop, where George waited for her to return, alone. A fierce determination gripped her. She leaned forward, urging her men into the attack. They obeyed, screaming a roar to rival the foreigners'. Her blade sliced through the air, connecting with metal and flesh. Weapons and fists pummeled Alanna but she pushed on, George's face firmly fixed in her mind.

10. Homecoming

Alanna stood at the entrance to Pirate's Swoop, battle-worn and shaking. It was the first time she'd seen her home in months. She scanned the crowd for a sign of her husband. In seconds, she found him, standing several feet away, his eyes drinking in the sight of her. Alanna's heart contracted at the sight of him. She wanted to run to his side and throw her arms around him, but her legs refused to move.

"George," she said, and that was all it took. He covered the distance between them and swept her into his arms, pressing their lips together, all other thoughts forgotten.

**Better than Beka/Rosto? Eh, eh?**

**As a side note, I was informed that I was joining the academic team and becoming the historian of the book club, as well as being assistant drum major for the band and treasurer for Tri-M and member of NHS. So. Much. To do.**

**Busy but trying,  
Brighteyes**


	3. Daine and Numair

**I feel like I should explain one of my drabbles from last time. I didn't meant that Alanna actually _did_ wish George had died instead of Liam. I meant that George knew Alanna loved him even through her pain of losing Liam (who she _was_ close to, like it or not--and I don't). So there we go. lol**

**Also, lots of you were asking for Daine/Numair, which made me very happy because a) I absolutely adore D/N, b) that means you're enjoying these at least a little, and c) I think these are my best. So...enjoy. :D**

1. Friends

Daine smiled and buried her head in the fur of the palace dogs who had come to greet her. The usually fierce, protective creatures pranced like puppies before her and begged her for attention, and Daine was more than happy to obey. They were her friends.

The sound of human laughter brought Daine's attention to the rest of her world. Behind her, Alanna, Onua, and Numair watched her, amused. Daine made a face at them as they continued laughing, but she couldn't help but join in. The People weren't her only friends, after all.

2. Constellations

The stars reflected in Daine's eyes as she gazed up at them, listening to Numair's lesson on constellations. He, however, was focused on her, on the line of her neck, on the swell of her chest below her tunic. He stopped himself there, unwilling to push his fancies any farther. Daine, heedless of Numair's inner battle, pressed against him, her arm slinking around his waist. Numair heard his voice trail off but didn't bother to start speaking again. He didn't remember what he was talking about, anyway.

3. Selfish

It hadn't been Numair's plan to take Daine as his lover so soon. He'd hoped she would drift away before the temptation became too great, so she'd be free of his reputation, and innocent. But she'd been so loving that night, and so beautiful, it had finally been too much. Their lips had met, clothes done away with, and he took her for himself, the most selfish thing he'd ever done.

But when Daine's eyes found his, and her lips pressed against his neck softly, Numair found that no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't quite feel selfish anymore.

4. Approval

They had thought their friends would disapprove of their relationship. On the day they had told everyone, neither could remember ever being so nervous. But the comfort of the other's presence gave each of them the courage to declare their deepest and most treasured secret. Alanna, George, Jon, Thayet, and Onua had all been struck silent by their revelation, but Aly, the child daughter of the Lioness, had been utterly unsurprised.

"Told you so," she proclaimed, looking smugly at her mother and father, who could only laugh, along with everyone else.

5. Someday

The answer had always been "maybe someday". Always maybe, no matter how many times Numair asked Daine to marry him. But Numair never gave up, knowing his magelet would agree to marriage when she was ready. So when he asked again one Midsummer afternoon as Daine reclined in his arms, watching a pair of birds fly past the setting sun, he didn't expect much. Daine smiled and kissed him, her finger tracing the strict lines of his jaw. And when she pulled away, she tucked her head under his chin, whispering into his chest, "Someday."

6. Real

Every woman Numair had been linked to was the same. Rich, older, big-bosomed, usually blonde. Daine was the complete opposite. But Numair loved her, anyway. Daine didn't know what made her so special, what set her apart from the rest. She had asked him about it once, and the mage had smiled and tightened his grip on her waist.

"You're real, magelet," he had whispered, kissing her sweetly.

7. Birthday

Daine traced invisible lines in Numair's chest as he stretched out on their bed, shivering under her touch. His lover's mouth warmed his skin, sending a scorching desire through him. He wrapped his arms around Daine's waist, covering her lips with his hungrily, while Daine returned his attentions. Numair held his magelet close, kissing every inch of skin he could reach. Daine's breath was a whisper against his cheek as she gasped his name, tangling her fingers in his hair.

Later, they held each other atop the twisted sheets, and Daine whispered, "Happy birthday, Numair."

8. Sense

Numair watched his magelet sitting on the floor, teasing Kitten with a ball. He watched her curls sway before her eyes as she laughed. Everything she did sent a shiver down his spine, and he had to fight to keep himself in his seat. He couldn't understand it: she could make him love her without even trying. They shouldn't work, but they did. It didn't make _sense_.

Laughing, Daine looked up at Numair. Her eyes locked on his, and he saw exactly what he was feeling reflected in them. And suddenly, he didn't want to make sense of it anymore.

9. Private

Daine leaned into Numair's chest, listening to the sounds of Cloud grazing, her gaze fixed on her lover, watching his eyes follow the clouds. Her hand traced the collar of his tunic. Numair smiled, turning to look at his magelet. He lowered his face to hers, softly pressing their mouths together once, twice before Daine leaned in and kissed him firmly. Numair laughed against her lips, but his chuckle became a gasp as he jerked away, rubbing his arm.

"He bit me!" the mage said, pointing at Cloud. The pony looked pleased.

_Next time, wait until you're in private, Storkman_.

10. Please

Numair smoothed an unruly curl behind Daine's ear, caressing her neck gently. Daine gazed up at him, silent. Both of them felt the extreme seriousness of this moment, of _now_, as if the rest of their lives depended on it.

"Please, sweet," Numair breathed, cupping Daine's face in his hand, "marry me."

Daine's breath caught in her throat. It wasn't the first time she had heard that question, but this time felt different. She looked up at Numair, her entire being screaming the answer at her.

"Yes, Numair," she whispered. "I will."

**Mithros, I love them.**

**Still busy and headache-y,  
Brighteyes**


	4. Kel and Dom

**Thank you guys so, so much for the reviews for the last set. It means so much that you liked them as much as I did. :D Anyway, here's Kel/Dom. I don't know how I feel about them, but I'll let you guys be the judge.**

1. Laugh

The King's Own trooped along the trail, laughing and talking amongst themselves. Corus loomed in the distance, and spirits were running high. A higher, more feminine laugh broke through the low, rumbling chuckles of the men as Keladry of Mindelain threw back her head and laughed. The rest of the company nudged each other and watched in mischievous amusement as her riding partner continued his joke, his twinkling blue eyes locked on Kel as the squire smiled at him, both oblivious to the attention of the rest.

2. Watch

Dom gazed around at the sleeping cluster of his men and refugees. His mind was buzzing with thoughts of the fight they would find in Scanra. Would he survive? Would Kel? Almost on their own accord, his gaze searched for the woman, finding her sleeping form within seconds. A cold dread filled him at the thought of what could await her, either in Scanra or in Tortall. He wanted to protect her from it, but he knew she wouldn't let him.

Dom groaned. He didn't quite understand the way Kel made him feel. But he knew he wanted to.

3. Masks

Kel stood in the courtyard, looking up at Dom. The sounds of Raul and Buri's wedding were a distant echo, leaving the pair completely alone. They were mere centimeters apart. Dom seemed to be waiting, for Mithros knew what. His hand ghosted over her cheeks. Kel closed her eyes. She could feel him moving closer, for a second that lasted for years. Without thinking, she closed the gap so his soft lips caressed hers. Kel shivered, despite the warm air.

And for once, she let her masks fall.

4. Stable

Toby made his way through the stable, looking around curiously. He could have sworn he'd seen Kel ducking in here… A hushed sound, like a murmur, came from the saddle room. Frowning a little, Toby crept towards it, pushing the worn wood open an inch, and felt his jaw drop. The lady knight stood just inside, her arms bound tightly around the sergeant Domitan. Neither of them noticed as a grinning Toby slipped away, letting the door fall closed behind him as he ran to tell the Own the results of their latest bet.

5. Forever

Kel buried her fingers in Dom's hair. The sergeant's fingers traces the contours of her curves longingly. Their first time was slow and sweet, but passionate, leaving both of them gasping for breath. Lovemaking with Dom was like nothing Kel had ever experienced before. She was intensely aware of his skin touching hers, her entire body numb with the thrill of his touch. Sometime later, just as Kel's eyes were closing in sleep, Dom holding her tightly, she found herself wishing she could hold on to this moment forever.

6. Worry

"Enjoying the view, sergeant?" someone asked. Dom looked around from his position against the wall—where he _had_ been watching Kel exercise—to see Lord Raoul. He grinned.

"Immensely, sir," he replied. Raul chuckled, watching his former squire. Dom, did too; Kel looked beautiful, her entire body focused on her exercises.

"You know," Raul began, almost as an afterthought, "if you hurt her, I'll personally make sure the Black God gives you hell."

Dom looked at Kel again. She handled her heavy glaive with graceful, deadly ease. He smiled dryly. "I don't think you have to worry about that, sir."

7. Gifts

The first gift Dom gave Kel after they became lovers was a Yamani painting, beautifully crafted and elegant. He had presented it to her before they crawled into bed, planting a kiss on her cheek as she opened it. Kel, speechless, had only been able to kiss him enthusiastically in thanks. When they'd eventually parted, she'd fingered her gift and apologized for not having something for him in return. Dom had laughed and leaned forward for another kiss.

"You can thank me in another way," he'd managed to say before pressing Kel into the sheets, raining kisses down on her skin.

8. Knew

Kel knew that Dom had been involved with ladies of the court. She'd known that from day one. She'd never dwelt on it (not much, anyway), and only used it in arguments when she had nothing else to say. Because she knew when they retired every night, it would be her on his mind. She knew his heart, mind, and lips belonged to her, just as much as hers belonged to him. And that, she knew, made her the luckiest girl in the world.

9. Protection

Dom paced while Kel gasped in the infirmary, berating himself for his stupidity. It was _his_ fault Kel had been injured, he told himself. The thug had been after _him_…she wouldn't have been hurt if he'd been paying attention…

The door opened, revealing a tired-looking Neal. Behind him, Dom saw Kel on the bed, pale but sitting upright. Dom sprinted towards her and kissed her, gently wrapping her in his arms, mindful of her bandages. He stroked her cheek with a shaking finger, thanking the gods she was healed, and promising himself he wouldn't let her be hurt ever again.

10. Keladry

Kel had never really minded her name. Once shortened, it was simple to spell, easy to say. But when she and Dom first announced their relationship, her name was one of the first things picked apart by the jealous court ladies. "What kind of name is _Keladry_?" they would ask when they thought she wasn't listening. Kel endured the whispering and taunting with a tired patience. And when she sat in bed, wrapped in Dom's arms, she wished all of the gossips could hear the way he murmured her name, and thought they wouldn't ever make fun of it again.

**Love Kel/Dom. Don't know if I did them justice.**

**Has no closing line except "busy",  
Brighteyes**


	5. Aly and Nawat

**Aw, shucks. You guys are the best readers a girl can ask for! Thanks so much for the feedback on these. Someone suggested that I do some not-center-stage pairings...and I have to admit, it's tempting. I might -- _MIGHT _-- do a meshed chapter...a handful of ships that aren't necessarily in the spotlight, thrown together. Yes, or no?**

1. Unreadable

Aly gazed across the square, her mind buzzing with plans as she observed the goings-on. A flash of red material caught her eye. She looked to see Sarai laughing in front of the smithy beside Nawat, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously. Aly's stomach twinged at the sight, but Nawat seemed indifferent. His eyes traveled away from the noble girl until they found Aly, and he smiled. A not entirely unpleasant shiver swept through Aly. The look in his eyes unnerved her, like he knew what she was feeling. But he couldn't. Aly was unreadable.

2. Celebration

Aly leaned against Nawat, letting the distant music of Dove's celebration flow over her. Nawat's hands ran up and down her spine. She trailed her fingers through his hair. Her entire body ached with the need to feel him, all of him. She crushed her lips against his soft ones, putting all she felt into it. She knotted her hands in his shirt as his palms pressed against her back. In the back of her mind, Aly knew they should escape to their rooms, but most of her didn't care: she was with Nawat, and that was all that mattered.

3. Surprise

Aly sat in her office, pouring over her newest set of notes. She was so transfixed on the papers, she didn't hear her door swing silently open, or notice the soft footsteps as a man walked towards her. She did notice, however, when the man swept her up into his arms, pressing soft kisses against her neck, her cheeks, and finally, her lips. The earthy scent of Nawat filled her nostrils as Aly gasped softly in surprise. Nawat chuckled lowly as Aly turned to meet his embrace, thinking that _this_ kind of surprise maybe wasn't so awful.

4. Relaxation

Nawat and Aly stared at each other, their hands entwined under the sheets. Nawat's finger trailed up and down her arm in a soothing line, easing Aly's stressed muscles. Aly closed her eyes. She knew, without a doubt, that she was lucky to have someone as wonderful as Nawat to come home to. Feeling truly content for the first time all day, Aly snuggled closer to her lover, pressing her face into his neck. Nawat gently hooked a finger below her chin and lifted her face to his. Just before their lips touched, Aly heard him whisper, "I love you."

5. Home

Nawat stared out at the palace courtyard. He imagined he was back home, on the island. He knew he had made the right choice, but sometimes…

Soft footsteps approached. "Sometimes," Aly said quietly, appearing at his side, "I imagine I'm still in Tortall."

Nawat looked at his lover. There was homesick understanding in her eyes. They were both foreigners in new worlds, learning to survive. Together. She took his hand. He squeezed it lightly, feeling more at home with her than he ever had on Tanair. And looking at her now, at her smile, he knew she felt the same.

6. Oblivion

For the first time in weeks, they were together again. Aly's hands explored her lover as his lips reclaimed her skin, exalting in their reunion. They lay there, tangled in each other, unwilling to separate, their hearts light as air. Aly couldn't remember being so happy. Nawat stared hard at her, his fingers tracing her cheekbones. He cupped her cheek in his hand.

"Marry me," he whispered. Aly's eyes widened. Nawat felt her hand start shaking in his.

"Yes," she replied—and then they were kissing again, the rest of the world falling into oblivion.

7. Titles

Nawat ran a hand over his wife's swollen stomach. He could hardly believe that the beautiful creature in his bed was his wife. _Wife._ It was a delicious word, better than any bug, one Nawat still loved to hear, even now, weeks after Aly had first become his, and he hers. And soon they would claim a new title, as thrilling as it was terrifying: parents.

Soft fingers wound themselves through Nawat's. He looked up to see Aly watching him. He smiled and squeezed her fingers. He knew they would make it through whatever was ahead of them.

8. Perfect

Aly walked into the nursery, her daughter balanced on her hip, as Asha's head drooped onto her shoulder. Nawat followed them, watching as Aly gently placed their daughter into her cot. He put an arm around his wife, folding her against his side. Aly leaned into him. They watched Asha for a moment, watched her chest rise and fall like each movement was a miracle. Aly didn't think there could be a more perfect moment, with Nawat by her side, Asha peacefully asleep, and she prayed to the Goddess that Asha would have as happy a life as she had.

9. Air

Aly's toes tapped against the floor as she stared through a window. She knew she was being irritating, but she didn't care. Suddenly she gasped. In a flash she was on her feet and out the door. She flew through the halls, throwing open the doors and sprinting into the courtyard. A tall, achingly familiar man stood there, his eyes on his fast-approaching wife hungrily. Aly threw herself into Nawat's arms, crushing her lips against his with burning intensity. She couldn't breathe, but she didn't need air, not when Nawat was there, holding onto her like he'd never let go.

10. Proud

Kyprioth sat in his divine home, gazing at the image of his old ward. Aly Crow was asleep, wrapped securely in the arms of her crow-husband, a small smile on her oft-serious face. In another room, the Trickster knew, their child slept, well into her toddler years. Aly was no longer the wandering young girl he had chosen. She was a wife, a mother, a spy. And she was happy. Kyprioth smiled. He'd grown attached to the girl, and her small family.

"Sleep, Aly-girl," he said, "you've done well. I'm proud."

**Well, there we go. This was fun. I'm not working on any Tammy stuff at the moment (unless you want that chapter, I suppose...), but I _am_ working on a The Mortal Instruments, by Cassandra Clare, fic. If you haven't read it, I really, really advise you do! Hopefully some of you have read it, and will be willing to check it out once I get it up. :D**

**Anyway. Thanks as usual for your amazing comments! It was so great hearing from you all again. :P I promise I won't disappear for so long next time!**

**Love and productivity,  
Brighteyes**


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